Well, that was pretty much it as far as equipment for several years. I played with some friends during my early high-school years. No real gigs of course, but several Law Enforcement visits to my parents' garage. We played a dozen or so songs (no Beatles; they were sacrosanct) with no vocals. In 1980 I performed my first gig as a member of "Outer Limits." The name came from a TIME magazine cover story on The Who entitled "Rock's Outer Limits." Now outfitted with a Real Live Singer, we played a CYO talent show and performed three songs: "Peter Gunn Theme" a la ELP (sort of), America's "A Horse With No Name" and, since we had said Vocalist, "Back in the USSR" . I have that tape somewhere...it's horrible. We won, of course. Listening now, I do recall that it was my first experience singing in front of a crowd (harmonies on the America song). Not bad at all, actually.

Fast forward to 1982. In college and working in the camera department at the local JCPenney, I made friends with one of the maintenance guys, an African American fellow named (ironically, I thought at the time) Wade White. Wade had a group that played R&B hits of the day (Kool and the Gang and such) and seemed to think I'd fit in nicely, being that I was (a) caucasian and (b) hated all music that was not rock and roll. So of course at 18 years of age I joined, and added a whole new set of experiences to my life.

First off, there was the practice venue. See, I had never set foot in a working-class black neighborhood before this, so I was surprised my much of what I found there. The concrete-block building we played in was a community center with a big, thick steel door and bars on the (broken) windows. I was not about to leave my equipment (worth at the time about $600 or more) in that place, so I had to schlep it all to and fro every time we practiced. The place had few electrical outlets, and we popped fuses all the time.

The group, "Phoenix," was fairly large. As I recall, there was a drummer, a funk-poppin' bassist, two guitarists, two or three horn players, a female vocalist/percussionist and me. All on a 4x8 piece of plywood. Well, almost. We played a number of gigs, all at which we were very well-received. The most surreal experience of all with them was on our way to a show at the American Legion in Buford GA. We got lost and stopped to ask directions. Picture us: a car overstuffed with black people and one white guy, in rural Georgia. I was elected Spokesman.

"Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the American Legion Post?"
"Which one?"
"Um, what do you mean, 'which one?'"
"The black one or the white one?"

It was a great show. As always, the crowd called out for us to play "that white song." By this they meant the Brooker/Reid composition "A Whiter Shade of Pale." My spotlight number. Naturally.

Wade introduced me to the wonderful world of Pawn Shops. I had never been in one prior to that time, as their barred windows and signage with GUNS in huge lettering scared me off. But I found them to be chock full of used musical instruments, at bargain prices. Wade and I found a Moog Rogue, a great little totally analog monophonic synth. I never fully realized the potential of this little instrument, though I did put it to good use for effects and such. It remained part of my equipment list for many years. I paid about $125 for it.